Profile
by MightyMightyMafia
Summary: -EDITED- ItaSaku, with some SasuSaku and KakaSaku- She called him Itachi-Sensei like it was a joke. He put up with it because it was a joke.


DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN IT.

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He recognized and fully accepted that his behavior was Class-A sociopathic. He was every ambitious psychiatrist's wet dream, and could acknowledge this with the slightest only twinge of annoyance.

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In his carefully ordered world, Uchiha Itachi had created for himself a sort of tunnel vision for every situation. Every moment, every choice had a set of guidelines based on rules he had developed simply because they made sense.

Everything was logical. Everything was straightforward. Everything made perfect sense.

When completing a puzzle, nothing was more important than fitting in the next piece in the correct place. He was a genius because puzzles in only two dimensions were boring.

He needed the thrill of a puzzle that required the coordination of many levels of understanding- complex sets of patterned information (perhaps contradicting information, if he was really looking for some fun).

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Uchiha Itachi was nothing if not patient. The gentleness of his prize herself would be reward enough for the time he wasted avoiding her pursuers.

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Sakura fit her own psychological profile perfectly. Abusive father, perfectionist mother, obsessive behavior, a semblance of split personalities, enough post traumatic stress to throw a seasoned shinobi off the deep end-

She was young, embittered and (and this is what had him salivating), had a habit of compartmentalizing information.

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Placing his palms against the thin, cold glass of the window his tired eyes flickered darkly across the landscape surrounding the inn. Behind him, Sakura sighed and shifted, her warmth breath fanning out in front of her as she slept.

His eyes found the sloppily suppressed chakra of several over-tired ANBU operatives as they crouched- the idea being that they stay hidden.

He turned back toward the sleeping girl and his pale hand reached over and shook her gently awake. Her lips were turning blue in the cold.

"Time to go already?," she whispered. Itachi blinked and returned to his position at the window.

She wasted no time in dressing herself fully: sliding her white mask over her face and slipping the black cloak printed with red clouds over her thin frame. Light glinted off the ring on her index finger.

He wondered if she knew it had belonged to Sasori.

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Kakashi had known from the start that this mission would be a bust. Of his students, Sakura had always been the smartest. Her decision to leave would not have been made without due consideration.

Sasuke's possessiveness of her was rivaled only by her possessiveness of her freedom.

He glanced over at the dark haired boy as he perched on the tree branch outside the inn.

It was unnecessary, Kakashi thought, for Sakura to go so far as to abandon him for his brother.

Kakashi's hands clenched as the memory of Sakura as she had been with him fleetingly passed through his mind. She had been his first.

He felt it was uncouth to say "I was here first!", but honestly...

He was there first.

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Abandon was not the word Sakura would use to describe it. She frowned.

Sometimes it felt like it, though. Her guilt was momentary.

Sasuke was childish to believe that his selfish behavior would have no consequences. She was a grown woman and wanted to be treated as such. She was not a toy, not a doll, not something to be owned or alternately cherished and abused.

Her growing abilities needed nourishing. Her expanding interests needed to be fostered.

Itachi was the kindest sensei for the job.

He was patient. He was intelligent. He was brutally hard on her during training.

But he never raised a hand to her outside their training, and for a girl raised at the back side of her father's hand and the front side of her former husband's, this was more valuable than any of Itachi's other traits.

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Itachi's eyes never left her graceful form as they walked through the snow. She walked in front, as always, and he followed directly behind. He was content with this arrangement. It gave his newfound pupil the air of confidence she needed to hide herself behind, and gave him the oppurtunity to observe her without her knowledge.

Behind her cloak and mask there was very little to betray her femininity besides her small stature.

But Itachi could observe the folds of the fabric and the way they moved and imagine the body underneath.

Oftentimes they were silent.

Sometimes, her voice would trail back to him and he would hear snatches of things he wasn't sure she had meant to say out loud.

She would, at times, talk nonstop.

He bore it with quiet fortitude. Her sparkling intelligence would raise its crystalline head and sink its fangs into him during these times.

How was it that something so obviously valuable could be overlooked so roughly?

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As a kunoichi she should have expected what would be asked of her.

At ANBU level, kunoichi were no better than prostitutes trained to kill.

Itachi didn't mind that Sakura was already jaded.

In some ways, he preferred her to be.

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She called him Itachi-Sensei like it was a joke. He put up with it because it was a joke. What kind of sensei fucked their student whenever he got a chance?

He found out later what kind of sensei Hatake Kakashi had turned out to be. She had only been sixteen. Kakashi had been thirty.

He grinned ferally. That's where his Sakura had learned to be so predatory.

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The ANBU squad left at the Inn waited until morning for the mismatched couple to emerge, but it soon became obvious that the pair had already come and gone without their knowledge.

Kakashi hated Sasuke for marrying Sakura.

Sasuke hated Kakashi for having gotten to her first.

Naruto hated both of them for taking advantage of her when he was dead (although he technically unaware of this).

Neji hated the snow and couldn't wait to get home and have his wife suck his cock.

Hinata hated Sasuke for killing Naruto.

Genma hated himself because three days prior he had discovered that he was gay.

The new members of Team Kakashi were in desperate need of therapy.

The mission had sucked, they had failed and were going home.

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'Honestly', thought Sakura, 'they shouldn't be so surprised.'

She voiced this aloud to Itachi who answered with a simple silence.

"I mean," she continued, "where are the people who are meant to protect the people who protect for a living? Where are the doctors and the politicians when a man is beating his wife? When a teacher is raping his student? When friends are tearing each other's vital organs out? None of it makes any sense."

Itachi nodded mutely. Sakura was glad of his silence.

She turned around and flipped her mask up. Her lips were quirked. Her eyes were flat and unfocused. Her skin was pale.

"I guess it doesn't bear saying that all of this has probably been pondered by people greater than I."

Itachi made no move to reassure her that her sentiment was unfounded.

The logical order he put in his life had pre-existed in hers, and she hadn't even been raised an Uchiha.

Her gaze broke and her facial muscles betrayed a momentary panic.

"Why do men treat me like this?," she murmured in shock. Her pink locks fluttered.

"Rhetorical," Itachi whispered.

"Probably."

She found her face in his cold hands, her lips pressed against his.

He pulled away after a moment and continued to walk.

She pulled her cloak tighter around herself. She dropped her mask back down.

She trotted back in front of him. He continued to watch her delicate curves beneath the billowing cloak.

This coldness she could understand. It was kinder by far than anything she had known previously.

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When they arrived back at headquarters, Itachi took her against the wall of their shared room and she cried in the shower while he politely ignored her sobbing.

Later on they sat by the fire and sharpened kunais.

He fucked her again right there next to the shining blades and the hearth, and then watched her patiently while she slept in the bed. In the morning, he woke her up.


End file.
